White Falls
by shedoc
Summary: What would you do if your best friend's face turned up on a missing poster?
1. Chapter 1

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_This is set a year or so post TSbyBS, and Blair is a cop. _

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**The White Falls County Sheriff.**

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National Missing Person's Week promised to be a hectic one, Simon mused as he headed into the seven-eleven for some much needed milk, bread and toothpaste on the way to work. Each department in the PD had been briefed to deal with the predicted madness. The 'experts' had warned that the extra attention on missing persons cases would put extra pressure on the PD as more and more people tried to get their missing loved ones back - or at least find out their final resting place.

Simon slung the required brand of toothpaste into his basket and strolled along to the diary section. As a part of the campaign this week the milk cartons would be carrying the faces of the many missing persons that had been missing for ten or more years. The supermarket chains had agreed to help by displaying those cartons with the faces out, so that people just walking by the display would see them, not just the customers buying milk.

Simon wasn't really paying attention as he ambled up to grab the milk. He was too busy thinking about the concert to raise money for a privately run missing person agency, and the other planned civic awareness events that would add to the publicity, and therefore the hysteria. That's why it came as such a shock when a three-year-old Blair Sandburg alternated every fourth milk carton on the shelves.



Jim Ellison, Detective first grade in the Major Crimes department of the Cascade police department, former Army Ranger and Sentinel of the Great City pushed up his sleep mask and frowned in frustration. He had another ten minutes of 'sleeping in time' before Blair was due to come upstairs and wake him. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen now - because his boss was about two meters from his front door and closing.

His Guide, Blair Sandburg, Detective second grade in the Major Crimes department of the Cascade police department, ABD in Forensic Anthropology, and Shaman of the Great City was currently in the shower. That meant that he probably wouldn't hear the knock on their front door - he certainly wouldn't be getting out of the shower to answer it.

Jim sighed, groaned, got up slowly and took his time to wander down the stairs whilst tying his robe. It looked like this week was going to be one to remember if Simon was making house calls this early in the morning. He reached the door as Simon pounded on it, opening it with a sigh.

"Good morning Simon," Jim stood aside as his boss steamed in. The stench of anger, fear, worry and anguish trailed after him in an oppressive cloud that had Jim wiping at his nose and shaking his head to clear it.

"What's wrong? Is it Daryl?" Jim grabbed Simon's arm, leading him to the dining room chairs. He got him seated and grabbed a cup of coffee from the fresh pot that Sandburg had started before he got into the shower. Simon gulped at the brew and waved Jim to a chair; fishing in the bag of groceries he pulled out the carton of milk he'd bought and put it on the table in front of Jim.

"Look," he rasped and Jim did, frowning at first until the full import of what he was looking at hit him. Then he understood. It was a picture of Blair at the age of three. Naomi had the same picture - Jim had lain upstairs on his bed and looked at the album. So what the hell was it doing on a milk carton?

"Simon…what the hell's going on?" Jim shook his head, stalling for thinking time, "This doesn't make any sense at all. Naomi's got this picture in her album of him…I've seen it."

"You've seen what, Jim?"

Times up.

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Blair opened the door to the bathroom and blinked. He hadn't heard the door, but then again the sound of the water tended to make him a little deaf. He rubbed at the wet mop of curls on his head and stood there quietly for a minute. Both of the men at the table were in a deep discussion of something and whatever it was, they weren't happy.

He bit down on a sigh. The trouble that had been promised the department was obviously starting early for the people in Major Crimes. He knew it was related to the Missing Person's week because they were staring at a milk carton.

"…I've seen it," Jim was saying as Blair approached.

"Seen what Jim?" Blair asked lightly, dropping automatically into a chair between the two men. That way he'd be able to control the stress levels. Both Jim and Simon looked as if they'd swallowed a hairbrush. Blair reached out and turned the milk carton, his instincts telling him that this was the cause of consternation.

There on the side of the carton was a picture. It was of him at the age of three. He was standing against the wall that was in his aunt's backyard. His hair was short and his eyes squinted a little in the sun. Blair frowned and shook his head.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" he looked at his partner and boss respectively, then back at the carton, his sharp eyes picking out the case number and contact details.

"Uh…" Jim trailed off. Blair looked over at his Sentinel and saw the fear there, and the anger. So Jim, at least, thought there might be something to this, and was worried how it was going to turn out.

"Ok," Blair shifted uneasily, "First things first. I'm going to try and contact Naomi. The chances are that she was putting a notice in for a friend and the wrong picture somehow got attached…I'm pretty sure I'm not missing, guys."

"Right," Simon agreed, reassured by Blair's calm acceptance and quick thinking. He'd been half afraid that he was headed into the mother of all emotional scenes this morning, "While you call Naomi, Jim can get ready for work."

"And what will you be doing?" Jim growled at his boss - after all they were still off duty and in their own home. Simon grinned, used to his friend's mercurial temper, and held up the bread he'd bought.

"Making breakfast, detective, now get on with it."

As he headed to the kitchen, though, Simon was mentally preparing himself for a very bad week indeed. Because he knew as well as Sandburg did that Naomi was not the ditz she often pretended to be. The chances that the scenario Blair had come up with was correct were slim to none. Which meant his best detective team was in a world of hurt, because what affected Sandburg affected Ellison.

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Joel was waiting for them when they reached the bullpen. He too had a worried face and a milk carton in his hand. So did Brown when he arrived thirty minutes later. Rhonda didn't have the carton, but she'd seen Blair's face on Good Morning America - who was apparently putting the different photos up every time they went to a station break.

Blair was hunched over his computer, working on the endless round of paperwork, waiting for Naomi to call him back. He'd also sent an urgent email to her account - with the hope that she'd contact him sooner rather than later. Jim was brooding over his own computer, and Simon's door was standing open, a sure sign that he was just as worried about their anthropologist cum detective.

Blair's tension was obvious by four, as Naomi hadn't called him at all, and his emails were unanswered. He tried again and then got up to take a walk, needing a breather from his co-workers thinly veiled concern.

"Why don't we just call it in?" Brown asked once he was sure Blair was out of ear shot, "If it is a mistake then we'll know for sure and Hairboy will be off the hot seat."

"What if it isn't?" Rafe tossed back, "I mean, he had a pretty nomadic childhood, right? Maybe somewhere along the way someone thought…I dunno…"

No one wanted to raise the idea that Blair had been kidnapped by Naomi as a child and their nomadic existence was a result of her efforts to avoid the law. If that was the scenario they were looking at, Blair would be torn apart - his obvious love for his mother destroyed by the lie she'd made of his life.

"Either way, the decision to call it in has to come from Sandburg, not us," Jim told them with a scowl, but Joel shook his head.

"Jim, we're not the only ones who know Blair Sandburg. There are people out there from the University and all over that know who he is. They'll see the photo too. Chances are that they've met Naomi and her photo albums. They'll call it in without calling Blair first," his face was sad, but his eyes resolute, "One way or another this is going to be reported, and Sandburg is going to be facing someone's family."

Jim's heart sank. He hadn't thought of that. Not everyone would call Sandburg before they called the hot line - that was why the milk cartons were so effective. No matter what they did, they were headed for some rough times ahead.

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Naomi didn't call. She didn't reply to the emails that Blair sent even though they had been tagged to send a receipt when they were opened; Blair knew she'd read them, she just hadn't replied.

Jim and Simon were tiptoeing around him, as was half of the PD. He appreciated the concern, but at the same time chafed against it. Blair had never been one to run away from his problems - he faced them head on. Once they'd returned to the loft on Monday evening he'd disappeared into his room, closing the doors softly and locking away his gun carefully.

Blair changed into sweats and sat on the floor, slipping into the lotus and setting up the candles and incense he favoured for a long session of meditation. Jim would smell them and know not to disturb him. His Sentinel knew the Shaman meditated when trying to come to terms with a new problem.

Blair settled himself properly and focussed on his breathing. He used the deep slow breaths to push away his feelings of betrayal and hurt at Naomi's apparent rejection, and the fear that his life had been a lie. He absorbed the quiet of his room, the comfort of his memories and the security that was his Sentinel and best friend that fairly radiated from the other side of his doors.

The steady cadence of his breaths soon slowed to the deep, silent breathing of a deeply meditating mind. The interior of his room gave way to the jungle that he and Jim had visited in their visions before. Usually his mind travelled to the seashore that he had once lived beside as a child with Naomi. He only travelled to the jungle in search of Jim or while seeking assistance for the Sentinel's problems.

The jungle was quiet today, but not eerily still. The steps of the temple bore his wolf and in the clearing paced Jim's jaguar. There was no one else around, but Blair wasn't looking for people. He went to the jaguar first, stepping into it's path to stop the restless prowl, and then soothing it with his hands and voice, whispering promises in its dark ears until the beast was purring and content to follow him to the wolf on the steps.

The wolf greeted them with an idle wag of the tail and the jaguar lay at its feet. The wolf nuzzled its soul mate tenderly and Blair sat beside them, burying his hands in their fur. They sat in the sun together for some time, allowing the quiet to preserve this moment of perfect peace. On the horizon storm clouds were gathering and both animals watched them closely.

"So, I guess that's a metaphor for the future, huh?" Blair sighed after a while, "That's ok guys, as long as we weather it together."

Both animals nuzzled him in approval of his words and Blair smiled, letting the jungle fade away slowly, taking his time to preserve the peace of the temple.

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Blair emerged at dawn. Jim had monitored his Guide through the night, lulled to sleep by the slow rhythm of his breath and heart. Although he had been worried when Blair first shut himself away, he knew his Shaman would not have been able to meditate so deeply for so long if he had been plagued by worry or fear. The dawn light showed the peace and health of his Guide, the well-known and loved face glowing, the deep eyes clear and unsullied. Wherever Blair had travelled in his meditations last night he had found the peace and answers he sought.

Jim had been awakened by the slow increase of Blair's respiration. He'd judged he'd have half an hour before his Guide returned to the present and got up. He'd started seeping the tea that Blair favoured after a long session of meditation, and had a shower as well. Morning ablutions completed, Jim had begun to prepare a light breakfast - mainly fruit and some grains in a yoghurt mixture that Blair had once shown him.

Blair smiled as Jim poured the tea and came over for a hug. They held each other in silence for a long moment, then Blair chuckled.

"There's a storm on the horizon, Jim. We can weather it together."

Cryptic messages from the spirit world. Jim grinned a little into his Guide's hair and squeezed tighter, getting an 'eep' in response. Once his response would have been to push his Guide away and make some kind of wisecrack or retort. Now…

"I'll get out the wet weather gear," he promised and they broke apart, moving to the table to eat and drink in easy silence. When their plates were empty Blair pushed his chair back a little and sipped the last of his tea.

"I'll call the hotline today," he said quietly, "There's nothing to be gained by hiding my head in the sand. I don't know what they'll tell me Jim, but I do want you to know this. My place is with you, as your partner. Nothing I learn today will change that. No one can replace you at my side, and I don't want any other. Nothing can invalidate who I am or what I have experienced - not even the knowledge that there is a family out there looking for me. Whatever comes we can weather it together."

Jim relaxed a little, partly ashamed that he'd needed this affirmation of the partnership, but mostly relieved. He'd had a bad feeling ever since Simon and his milk carton had shown up, but that feeling had been banished by Blair's simple words. They would face this together. Together there was nothing they couldn't handle.

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When they called to tell Simon their plans, their boss made a helpful suggestion. The people at the hotline would probably be very wary of giving information to someone claiming to be the three year old in the picture - especially as they couldn't verify over the phone who was being sincere and who was merely looking to con the grieving relatives.

Simon's suggestion was to let him make the call - he could give the contact details of the PD to whoever had placed Blair's picture on the milk carton and suggest that they call him. That would take some of the pressure off Blair and give Simon a chance to scope out what was going on. During the night it had occurred to the Captain that it was possible some kind of fraud was taking place here - after all, Blair's mother knew where he was.

Jim, who had been listening into the conversation shamelessly, nodded his approval of the plan. He looked so hopeful that Blair agreed to go along with it. His friends were stressing out enough - he could afford to give them this. Hopefully they would feel better now that they were actively doing something to solve this mystery.

In the truck on the way to the PD, Blair finally voiced the hope that had occurred to him whilst sitting on the temple steps.

"Jim…maybe the person who put the report in is my father."

"Maybe, Chief," Jim agreed quietly and hoped that if it was, old man Sandburg would turn out to be nicer than old man Ellison. The last thing that Blair needed was a father who disapproved of everything he'd become.

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Blair's attitude was brighter today, and that relieved the tension that some of his co-workers felt. Now that he had a plan, the young man felt better about the situation. Action usually soothed him - his partner called him the perpetual motion machine for good reason. He and Jim went out on witness interviews for the morning, which resulted in an arrest just before lunchtime.

The karma of Ellison and Sandburg held true though, and the arrest was more of a food fight than a straight in and out operation, therefore both men needed to head to the loft to shower and change before coming back to work. Their suspect would be booked by then, and Simon would have calmed down after the restaurant owner finished complaining about the mess.

Brown and Rafe were on their way out when the two men stepped off the elevator. Jim endured the ribbing about his pie-throwing partner - they never blamed Blair for using unorthodox methods in the field, heck, they expected it - and headed for Simon's office while Blair started the paperwork and checked their messages.

"Any word?" Jim's voice was hopeful. Simon nodded, and waved his detective in. Jim settled into the familiar chair opposite the Captain's desk and folded his hands over his stomach. His boss smiled a little - it was so like Ellison to check up on his partner rather than ask the man himself.

"I've left a message on Sandburg's desk," he replied, "The contact details are for a Sheriff Jackson out at White Falls County."

"That's only three hours from here," Jim sounded surprised, and Simon nodded. It was a small world indeed.

"I'm hopeful that this isn't some kind of screw up - the Sheriff's department out there is pretty good by all accounts. They won't be running some kind of scam or anything. How was he last night?"

"He meditated all night - I think it's a personal best. He was fine this morning though - and he's totally focussed on the job today. Did you hear about the bust?"

Once Simon wound down from his telling off, and Jim's ears stopped ringing, the Sentinel rejoined his partner, who handed over Simon's message wordlessly. Jim read through the details carefully and nodded, redirecting their attention to the paperwork and booking an interrogation room. Their suspect's lawyer arrived and Jim and Blair headed off to the interview, putting their personal mystery aside for now.

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"Banks."

"Captain Banks, this is Sheriff Jackson from White Falls County," the woman's voice was cool and clear over the phone lines and Simon put his latest piece of paperwork aside to concentrate.

"Hello, Sheriff," he glanced out to see if Blair or Jim was in the bullpen. Neither man had returned from the interrogation yet, so their suspect must be holding out. It didn't matter; Sandburg and Ellison were an almost unstoppable team when it came to finding out the truth of any matter.

"I called you in response to the photo that you had published on the milk cartons," he continued, "I believe I may know the young man that's in the photo. I wanted to check what your interest in him was, and see if we can identify him properly."

"Uh huh," the woman didn't sound too impressed with his hedging, "Ok, well, how about I give you the details of the person I'm looking for and we'll see if they match up."

"That sounds reasonable," Simon nodded, though she couldn't see him. The Sheriff started out by giving him Blair's birthday and a general physical description, including an estimate of what his height should be and his eye colour. They were all spot on.

"His first name is Blair, and he could have the last name of Sandburg, though we're not sure if his mother remarried and renamed him," she continued, not waiting for Simon to confirm or deny any of this, "He'll have travelled a lot in his life time and his mothers name is Naomi."

"I see," Simon took a deep breath, "Sheriff I have to tell you that so far everything you've described to me is spot on. So I'm going to insist that you tell me how you came about this information and exactly what you want with the young man in question."

"I just want to know that he's ok, that he's happy and safe. And I know all this stuff because he's my twin brother. Naomi took him and walked out when we were three. Dad raised me. She raised him."

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Blair paced the floor of the loft nervously. Simon had been gone for the day by the time they got out of that nasty interrogation - good news they'd nailed the guy but good, bad news there was yet one more lawyer out there cursing the team of Sandburg and Ellison. He'd left a cryptic message on Blair's desk that he'd be at the loft at eight pm sharp and Jim had met his Guide's eyes steadily.

The Sentinel was wisely staying out from underfoot as Blair worked off the nervous energy. He couldn't decide if it was good news or bad news, though he knew that whatever Simon had discovered had proven that he belonged in some small part on the side of that milk carton.

Blair saw the tilt to Jim's head and the flare of the nostrils that said Simon was approaching. He went and opened the door, standing so he could see the corridor that led from the lift and stairs. Simon appeared out of the stairwell, and blinked a little in startlement. While the Sentinel loved to open the door just before he could knock, the Guide rarely stood in the doorway waiting for him.

Simon shifted the package under his arm and smiled at the worried detective, backlit by the loft and shadowed by his protective partner.

"Hey, Sandburg," he nodded in greeting. He was ushered inside wordlessly, and headed for the couch - all the better to be comfortable while he laid this information out.

"Thanks," he nodded as Jim handed him a beer and sat close to his partner, draping an arm along the back of the couch in a casual manner that let him rub soothing circles on the Shaman's tense shoulder.

"I got the call just as you guys went into interrogation," no sense in prolonging the wait, Simon leapt straight into his pitch, "Sheriff Jackson's father placed you in the missing person campaign, Blair, and her information was so good I had her drive up to Cascade straight away with the corresponding evidence. She's waiting in a hotel at the moment, so if you want to see her you can give her a call."

"What did she say?" Blair fixed his eyes on the photo album that Simon had set on the table. It was a blue leather affair, gold embossed border with a sticky label on the spine that read 'family years'.

"She has the documents to prove it all, but Sandburg, this is gonna come as a shock," Simon warned and held up a hand at the impatient look he got, "Her name is Beth, and thirty one years ago she and her twin brother were born to Pete Jackson and Naomi Sandburg."

"What?" Jim blurted in surprise, "Simon, that's nuts!"

Simon opened the album. The first page was of pictures of Naomi and a chestnut, curly haired man that Blair took to be Pete. They were still teens, and in each picture they were hugging or holding hands. In one Naomi wore Pete's team jacket.

Simon flipped the page and there were the graduation photos, followed by a wedding photo with a date under it. In the wedding photo both the teens looked a little shocked, and Naomi was pale to boot.

"She got pregnant right after graduation…" Blair trailed off and sighed, touching the hands that were locked so tightly together. On the next page Naomi and Pete clowned for the camera, Pete touching the bulging belly of his young pregnant wife. There were a couple of shots of them in various locations that were easily identified as San Francisco.

The next page had two babies, lying wrapped together in the same rug, identical except for the pink and blue tags on their wrists. Blair's breath caught and he touched the photos reverently. His birth date was written beneath the photo along with the simple caption 'our angels Blair and Beth' in his mother's handwriting. There was also a photo of the couple together; holding the babies between them and beaming so proudly that the love shone right off the page at the viewer.

"Call her Simon, tell her to come over," Jim spoke for his partner and then shifted to hold the overwhelmed man close, offering comfort and support as only he could.

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Jim decided not to warn them of the imminent knock. Blair had relaxed a little in the twenty-minute wait, and to give him too much advance notice would undo the cuddling and breathing exercises. Simon made as if to get up, but Blair was up, over the back of the couch and at the door before the fourth knock could fall. Simon didn't think he'd ever seen the young man move faster, unless it was to protect his partner.

Blair pulled the door open and froze. In the hallway stood a woman his height and age. Her red and chestnut curls were short, but they framed a face that was almost eerily his. Her jaw was a little softer and she was a little slimmer, but her eyes and forehead and cheekbones were the ones he saw in the mirror every day.

"Blair?" she asked hesitantly, "I'm Beth Jackson."

Blair took a deep breath and reached out with both hands, the turmoil of his emotions forbidding words for a moment. He took her by the shoulders gently, as if she was an illusion that would shatter from too tight a grip, and drew her over the threshold. His partners gasp of astonishment barely registered as he pulled her closer, getting into her personal space, catching the faint scent that had always said Naomi to him. Her arms came up too and she wrapped them around his waist, holding on tightly, coming to rest her head on his shoulder, even as his was resting on hers.

"Beth," Blair breathed, "Oh my god."

Jim smelt the salt of tears, but he thought they were happy ones. Simon looked vaguely uncomfortable, as if he was an intruder on this very personal moment. Jim sent him a reassuring smile - one that was rarely aimed at anyone other than his partner.

"This is for family, Simon," he said softly, so as not to disturb the siblings at the door. He watched the pleasure dawn on Simon's face, as he understood what Jim meant and nodded in return.

"Beth, I'd like you to meet my partner, Jim," Blair took a deep breath and turned, tugging his twin after him, keeping his arms wrapped around her loosely. Jim smiled and came forward, running his senses over the woman who looked so familiar. She had the familial scent that Blair shared with Naomi and her heartbeat was very similar to Blair's.

"It's a pleasure," he shook her hand and ushered them both out of the doorway, herding them gently over to the couch. Beth dropped the backpack that had been slung over one shoulder to the floor, resting it against her feet, then sat holding Blair's hand tightly.

"Your hair is longer than mine…" she trailed off and Blair laughed, a delighted sound that had her chuckling along, blushing a little at the inanity of her comment.

"I can't believe you're a Sheriff," Blair replied, "I mean, it's so bizarre. What are the odds of us both ending up in law enforcement?"

"In my case I followed in Dad's footsteps," Beth shrugged, her eyes taking in every detail of the man she was clinging to, "I was a portable in the San Francisco PD when Dad was a detective. He was injured in the line of duty and…well he couldn't be a cop any more. He was worried about me, so I offered to look for a job somewhere quieter. White Falls County was looking to hire someone with city experience to deal with a new resort opening up that way, as well as a couple of bars and hotels along the highway. I applied and got the job. Dad runs a carpentry shop out there - he makes furniture and does a little building on the side."

"My father is still alive?" Blair gasped and she nodded, dismayed at the tears that stood in Blair's eyes. Jim moved closer and put his arm around his partner again. For all his bravado on the subject, Blair had always wanted to know who his father was. Now he'd have that chance.

"Easy buddy. It's ok."



"Mom and Dad met in high school, according to Dad they were going steady - don't you love that phrase? - and they went to the prom together. Mom found out she was pregnant right after they graduated and Dad married her right away. He was going to work as an apprentice carpenter for his uncle in San Francisco, and he took Mom with him."

"…mom said I was born in 'Frisco."

"Yeah, well, we were a surprise to them, according to Dad they thought something was wrong all through the pregnancy, but no one listened to a couple of clueless teens who'd gotten into trouble. Mom gave the doctors a scare when we were born, and they were sent home with two babies instead of the one they were expecting. It didn't matter though. We all lived together until just after our third birthday."

"…why don't I remember this?"

"Well, you were three, and when she took you Mom didn't take anything to remind you of us. I had Dad's memories and the photo albums to help me remember you - though if I'm honest it's more the knowledge of you than of anything we ever did together. Dad never really gave up hope that one day we'd all be a family together again, so he'd tell me stories about us and Mom."

"…what happened when we were three?"

"According to Dad, that was when he found out that Mom had strayed…that's his word choice, not mine. He had a huge argument about it with her, and the next day, while he was at work she took you and left. He came home to me in the crib and all your stuff gone, as well as Moms. She even took your photo album."

"…i don't get it."

"This is the family album - all of the pictures of Mom and Dad are there, as well as all four of us, or the two of us. Mom had set up two different albums - one for each of us, so we'd have pictures of ourselves as we grew up without a twin to steal the limelight. Mine's at home - do you have yours somewhere?"

"…in my room."

"I'd love to see it sometime - so would dad. Anyway, Dad looked for you both but he couldn't track you down. He didn't want to call the police, because they'd probably arrest Mom or something. Then a week after my fourth birthday Mom came for a couple of days to visit. Dad asked her to come back and she said she'd think about it. This went on until just after our seventh birthday. She came for a visit and that was the last time we ever saw her."

"…what happened?"

"Well, for one thing Uncle Ray had died about ten months before and left the carpentry business to his sons. They fired Dad - they thought he was being a sponge or something I guess - and Dad had to get a new job. He joined the police department in 'Frisco and opened the door to Naomi in his uniform. I can still remember hiding under the bed at the screaming argument they had. Mom went totally nuts. Dad begged her not to leave, and begged her to let you come see us, but she stormed off and that was the last ever visit."

"…dad is a cop?"

"He was - he made it to detective rank, and I was a patrol officer in the PD for a while. He got hurt in the line of duty and had to take medical retirement. White Falls was looking for a city trained Sheriff and I got the job. Dad and I live out there now. He runs a carpentry business and we coach and tutor in the community, it's nice out there. I was kinda hoping you'd come out for a visit soon. I gotta leave tomorrow afternoon because I'm on duty this weekend, but Dad is dying to see you and … I want us to get to know each other again."

"…give me the address and I'll get some leave as soon as I can."



White Falls was a sprawling town, with a tree lined main street and wide pavements. The stores were all well established, nothing too fancy or hectic. Blair found the Sheriffs office at the end of the street - a single storey brick building near the council chambers. He parked out the front and took a deep breath, willing his heart rate to slow. The last thing he needed was to hyperventilate.

He and Beth had arranged that he would drop in to the Sheriff's office first, so Beth could warn her father that he was on his way. He'd been unsure of when Simon would be able to give him leave time, and didn't think it was fair to just land himself on the man unannounced. Luckily, Simon had been able to swing three weeks emergency leave, citing family reasons. Unfortunately, Jim hadn't been able to swing leave time as well. His place in Blair's family wasn't really recognised by anything so mundane as regulations, though each man knew where the other stood in their heart. He would try and come for a weekend at one point - at both Beth and Blair's insistence.

The man at the front counter did a classic double take as Blair entered and the tense man managed a small smile. Looks like Beth hadn't warned her colleagues about him.

"Hey Sheriff!" the man yelled, staring hard, his eyes taking in the long hair pulled in a ponytail, the sideburns and masculine lines.

"Harry, how many times do I have to remind you that we are professionals, and should act accordingly?" Beth's voice was exasperated as she emerged from her office, "We spent a pretty penny putting in phones that had an intercom just so you wouldn't have to shout like you were in the field."

"Sorry, Sheriff, but there's someone here that looks just like you!" Harry gestured wildly and Beth looked past her Deputy to Blair. The brown uniform sat well on her, as did the usual utility belt and badge. Her face lit up when she caught sight of him and she hurried forward, arms open. Blair wrapped himself around her, hugging tightly. That was not the faked reaction of someone putting up with an unwanted addition to the family. That was the loving reaction of a sibling greeting someone she'd missed. Any concerns that Blair had that she was simply humouring her father disappeared in a flash.

"Hey sib," Blair chuckled in her ear, "Glad to see you again."

"Ditto, sib," Beth adopted the nickname in a heartbeat and squeezed once before letting go.

"Harry, I'm heading home for lunch. I'll be back at the usual time, and I've got the cell and all if you need me," Beth tucked her hand into Blair's and tugged him forward, heading for the door. Blair waved back at Harry and they split up, Beth to her cruiser, Blair to the Volvo. As she led the way along the main street, Beth called home on her cell phone, hanging up quickly as she guided Blair to the former farmhouse that she shared with her father.

It was on the outskirts of town, and had a barn nearby that doubled as Pete's display area and workshop for the furniture. The barn was painted blue and white, and the house matched it. There was an extensive garden out the front of the house, one that was designed to compliment the old fruit trees that surrounded the house. Beth parked around the back, near the large vegetable patch and hopped out, hurrying to help Blair with his bags and bickering with him in a comfortable tone about who would carry what. In all his life Blair had never connected so quickly or deeply with any other person, not even Jim.

The sound of the cars had alerted Pete to their arrival, and the tall well built man stepped out of his workshop, shucking the leather apron he wore to protect his clothes. He wore faded jeans and a flannel shirt with rolled sleeves. His hair was also short, the grey streaked chestnut curls tight about his head. He was limping quickly towards them, his face a mixture of joy, hope and apprehension.

Blair dropped his bags and moved quickly, hugging the older exuberantly. Strong arms came up to hold him close, and a rough voice welcomed him home.



Jim felt the last anxiety in his muscles melt away to nothing as Blair stepped out of the sky blue barn and waved enthusiastically. The summer sun was warming them even as it set, so Blair's short sleeved shirt was sweat marked from where he'd been working with his father - mainly apprentice level skills that Pete insisted on showing him. Beth had ribbed that she already knew how to do that 'baby stuff' - earning a laughing scold from her father to 'leave her little brother alone'.

They had spent the last two weeks making memories and sharing each other's past. Pete spoke a little of the Naomi he'd known and their early years together. They'd thoroughly explored the photo albums and caught up to the recent past. Pete had told Blair the bare bones of the accident that took his left leg below the knee and Blair had shared a little of the disaster that had led to him choosing to become a cop, as well as the chance that had led him to the nearly finished PhD in Forensic Anthropology. Beth had already achieved a Masters in linguistics and another in archaeology through external learning courses. Pete had walked around with a smug smile for days.

"Hey, Chief," Jim laughed as Blair tugged open his door. The ex ranger slid out of the truck into a hug, and grinned at the excited gleam in his Guide's face.

"Jim! Good trip?" Blair bounced - something that Jim hadn't seen for a long time - and reached in the back of the truck for Jim's bag, "You're in the room next to mine, come on, I'll show you. How was your week? Any problems with you-know-what?"

"Yes, it was a good trip, that sounds great, thank you, we've been pretty quiet on the crime fighting front and no, there have been no problems," Jim answered in order, an old game of theirs from the early days when Blair would fire a million and one questions at him. To answer out of order only confused things, and Jim had trained himself to this new skill.

The room next to Blair's was comfortably furnished in pale yellow tones and Jim dropped his bag at the foot of the bed. He'd unpack later - when his friend had calmed down a little. Blair gave him time for a quick wash and then dragged him back downstairs and over to the barn to meet Pete Jackson.

The family resemblance was unmistakable. Blair's eyes and chin came from this man, as did his general build and square shaped hands. It was obvious he'd inherited the curly hair too, though he was a little redder, taking after Naomi in that area. If this was what his dearest brother was going to age into, then Jim was very pleased to make the man's acquaintance.

Pete brushed aside the polite 'I hope I'm not intruding' comments with a wave of his hand and banished the last of Jim's very secret fear that his Guide would elect to stay out here instead of returning to his place in Cascade with a few simple words.

"My son has told me a lot about you, Jim," Pete chuckled, "Anyone that he considers family is welcome in my home, day or night, no exceptions."



**Epilogue**



"Come on Sandburg! Get the lead out!" Jim yelled from the sidelines and chuckled at the hand gesture that was his very grimy Guide's only response. It was true Fourth of July weather - hot and clear. The smell of the grills wafted over the field and most of Major Crimes was ranged on the dugout benches, calling encouragement and derision at short intervals.

"Jackson, Jackson, she's our man - if she can't do it no one can!" Simon added as Beth headed for the plate, grinning in turn at the identical hand gesture. Murphy from Vice sneered, pitched a fastball and gaped as she hit it out of the park with a graceful swing of shoulders and hips. The twins jogged around the bases at their leisure, touched home plate with a delighted team cheering them on and headed into the dugout.

"What was that little gesture I saw out there, children?" Pete Jackson asked mildly, and Major Crimes laughed at the sight of the two of them scuffing their feet in the dirt and avoiding his eyes.

"He/She taught it to me," they chorused pointing at the other and the laughter boiled over in to almost hysterics. Simon had to prop himself up on Jim, and H rolled on the ground, clutching his ribs.

"Hey! Are we gonna play ball or what?" Murphy yelled and Jim staggered up, quelling the laughter with difficulty, collecting his bat and heading for the plate. Blair grinned and threw himself down beside his father, while Beth nudged Simon over for her share of the narrow bench.

The two families had been travelling back and forth for the major holidays, taking it turn about, though Pete had come to Cascade for a month long visit, meeting the team at Major Crimes and riding along with his son for a day as well. Simon had watched his best pair of detectives settle into a contented groove, the sudden discovery of Blair's family only enhancing the extraordinary bond they shared. That was in part due to the welcome that Pete and Beth gave to Jim - sometimes Simon thought that they understood that there was more than simple friendship, or even simple brotherhood there. Simon knew that they had told the Jackson's the full story about the thesis at Jim's insistence. Simon had been relieved to hear that - a part of him had worried that the strain of lying - and not only lying, but making himself out to be the worst of frauds at that - to his newly recovered father and sibling would tear Blair away from Jim.

"Hey, Hairgirl, catch," H threw Beth a bottle of sports drink and she caught it deftly, popping the top and taking a healthy swig. The nickname had been issued on her first visit with Major Crimes, and she'd taken it in good humour, as well as Joel's pious thanks that their hair was different length so they could tell the twins apart. Major Crimes had opened their arms to the Jackson's, and as a result they all had standing invitations for Halloween and New Years.

The crack of bat and ball recalled the Captain from his musings. Jim was on second by now and Joel on first. Simon leaned back and looked at his people with deep satisfaction. They were relaxed - a rare enough thing for cops - and healthy. His newest detective was settled in and working hard. He had a beer in his hand, his team was winning and the weather was clear and warm.

Life just didn't get any better than this.



**The End………….?**




	2. Chapter 2

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Ok, I know it's short, but I figured that a traveller wouldn't want to spend inordinate amounts of time reading on her hols! This was a birthday fic for Lee last year, and builds on the birthday fic for Spacey (you want more chapters, have more birthdays!)

PS -Beware the sappy stuff!

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

White Falls - Family Reunions

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"…So there they all are, looking like some kind of psychedelic freak out, and there's me and my partner trying to figure out if we call for the medics or a fire hose. We've both got our guns out because of the noise they were making, and before we can do more than blink the Commissioner himself pokes his head out of the pile and tells us to shut the door on our way out."

Jim willed himself not to lose control of his bladder as he laughed, puddled helplessly in his chair on the back porch. Blair and Beth looked over from where they were weeding the vegetable garden with curious glances, and then rolled their eyes and went back to work. Pete Jackson grinned at his son's brother and put his beer down, leaning over to pat Jim on the shoulder. When the Sentinel had calmed down and was wiping the laughter tears away, Blair's father delivered the punch line.

"Of course, the paperwork was a bitch."

He lost it, and slid out of his chair to the floor with a thump, beating his leg in helpless mirth as his stomach muscles protested the abuse. Blair materialised out of nowhere, checking him over anxiously, and then rubbing his shoulder in gentle amusement as Jim gasped and fought for control. The touch soothed him enough to be able to breathe, but not so much that the good humour was killed. A perfect balance, and no less than Jim had come to expect from his diligent Guide.

"Don't kill him dad, he's cooking tonight," ever the sympathetic Shaman Guide, protecting his Sentinel. Jim snorted, heaved himself up and wobbled for the nearest bathroom while Blair and his father headed for the vegetables.

Jim looked out over the garden, casting his senses to get a perfect picture of the people and environment around him. Blair's family shared a baseline scent, and their hearts carried a familiar murmur that spoke to him on the most primitive level imaginable. When he was in White Falls, Jim could 'let it all hang out' and be himself. The hard won and regulated control could be relaxed and his senses could 'play' as much as he did. In the year since Blair had found his family, Jim had never laughed more. The fact that Sandburg had inherited his generous nature from both parents helped a lot too. Pete Jackson called Jim 'son' and bossed him around as much as he did his blood kin. Jim lapped it up.

"Hey Jimbo! Quit gawking!" Beth's voice reached him easily and Jim stuck his tongue out at her, stepping down into the pleasant spring day and going to help as ordered. Once the weekend was over, in fact just after lunch on Sunday, he and Blair would be heading back to Cascade. This had just been a flying visit, taken on their weekend off as a spur of the moment thing. Blair was getting over a minor cold and Jim had planned the whirlwind trip as a surprise. The nice thing about family is that you could drop in unannounced.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Hey Sandburg, how's Hairgirl?" Brown asked Monday morning and Blair left Jim's side to go boast about his sister. Jim grinned and Simon waved him over. Their captain was standing in the door of his office, watching Jim's partner with carefully concealed amusement.

"He's looking better," both men had good cause to hate hearing Blair cough and wheeze. The fountain was something that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Simon had approved of Jim's plan wholeheartedly and had looked the other way when Jim took his partner home very early on Friday.

"He's much better," Jim nodded, "I swear, the minute he sees them it's better than a miracle cure."

"Good," Simon nodded, "Well, you're both on desk duty today, and tomorrow you're in court, so that should help ease him back into things."

"Thanks sir," Jim nodded and headed for his desk. He hated paperwork, but the sedentary task would allow Sandburg to finish fighting off the germs.

"Ok?" Blair asked as he slid into his own chair and booted up his computer, "Did you tell him I'm fine and you can both relax?"

Jim gaped at his partner. He thought they were being subtle. Blair rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You do know that I always know what you're up to, don't you?" Blair used the 'all seeing, all knowing' tone that made Jim want to throttle him.

"Oh yeah?" Jim asked smugly, thinking about the surprise birthday party for the twins that he was fixing up.

"Yeah, and stay away from the strawberry frosting - Beth's allergic," Blair made his point, and hoped that Jim wouldn't realise that he'd intercepted a call about the birthday cake from the caterer when Jim had been down in the morgue with Dan Wolf. The expression on Jim's face was priceless, and he chuckled to himself, grabbing the nearest file and starting work.

They worked peaceably til lunch; when Blair volunteered to go for take out. There was a diner down the road that made burgers that weren't too bad for you and he'd decided to get Jim one, and a salad for himself. It was almost warm enough to take off his jacket, and Blair enjoyed the bright sunshine and playful breeze as he hurried through the lunchtime pedestrians.

Food bought and paid for, Blair hurried back to the PD. Jim hated cold burgers and whined like a two year old if they had to be reheated. Blair didn't want to spoil his lunch by having to stuff Jim into the microwave, so he put on a bit of speed to get back.

He was crossing the road in front of the PD when the wolf howled at him. A cars engine revved wildly and Blair threw himself forward, heeding the spirit animal's cry, abandoning lunch to the middle of the road. He felt the impact of the wolf, but it wasn't enough to get him clear. The car smashed into him and he went flying, slamming into a parked car and sliding gracelessly to the road. The street around him spun and swooped and his entire body was one giant pain. The wolf latched onto his wrist, tugging frantically, and he rolled obediently towards the curb, trying to get out of the street. Once more he was too slow and the car slammed into him, pinning his legs against the parked car he'd hit before. Thankfully he was no longer awake to realise that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"White Falls County, Sheriff Jackson speaking," the voice was clear and friendly and made Jim want to cry. He hadn't wanted to make this phone call, but he couldn't have lived with himself if he'd asked Simon to do it in his place.

"Beth, it's Jim."

Three little words and he could hear the woman on the other end of the line immediately leap to the right conclusion. He heard her sit down heavily and brace a hand on the desk.

"How bad is it?"

Beth was not one to beat about the bush. Jim blessed her for it silently and wished his hands would stop shaking. The jaguar's warning had been too late for him to protect his Guide, and there was a whole lot of guilt flying around his head.

"We're not sure. It was a hit and run. From the witnesses descriptions it was deliberate."

"Which hospital?"

Jim gave her the details and heard her stand up once more.

"Dad and I will be right there, Jim."

"He was just going out for lunch. He wasn't…"

"Jim," firm commanding tone, with love in it, "We'll be right there. No one blames you. You just take care of Blair for us until we can get there, ok? Dad will want to know what's happening, and if you're ok. Focus on Blair. Send him some of those good vibes, I'm sure he needs it."

"Can do," Jim wiped a hand over his face, "Thank you."

The dial tone was his answer, but he didn't mind. The family was coming.

Simon put a hand under his arm and led him to the waiting area. Most of Major Crimes was in there already, as well as detectives and uniforms from other departments. Blair had made a niche for himself in the PD, and the muttering about the failed thesis was mostly silent now. Jim appreciated their support, but couldn't find the strength to tell them. His partner was the eloquent touchy feely one, he did silent support and menace. He was pretty sure it was in their contract…

Jim shook himself from his thoughts and looked up. Beth and Pete were in the doorway, looking for him. Had it been three hours already?

"What…" he muttered and glared at Simon.

"You zoned a little," Simon admitted. There was no hint of apology in his tone, "I figured it was easier on you than staying present."

Beth and Pete's heartbeat had brought him back, and now they wrapped their arms around him in a three way hug that felt really good. Simon waited until they could let go of each other and explained that Blair was in surgery now, as the doctors tried to repair the damage that had been done to him by the car.

"How did it happen?" Pete looked shaken and Simon scowled. Rafe and Brown had been keeping him informed, and the news wasn't good.

"Sandburg was crossing the road to get back to the station house. Witness's report that a car that had been double-parked further down the road gunned its engine and headed right for him. Sandburg tried to get out of the way, but was clipped pretty bad. The car slammed to a stop, sat for a moment, and then when the driver saw that Sandburg was trying to get out of the road, it backed up. He was pinned by the ankle to a parked car. The driver got away - in all the confusion no one tried to stop him. By the time we got there it was all over."

The report was straightforward and concise, as emotionless as possible. They didn't need to hear about the heartrending sound of pain the unconscious man had made when he was finally freed from the wreck, or the frantic efforts of the paramedics and staff here to keep him alive. From the look in Jim's eyes the Sentinel had picked up a lot more of his Guide's suffering, a memory that was even now battering away at him.

"Any leads?" Beth asked after a moment, unshed tears in her eyes, "Jim, what were you two working on?"

"We've got a murder and a car theft ring on the desk at the moment, and we're coming up to trial for a few cases," Jim's voice was dull. 'Shock,' Simon thought, watching as Blair's sister wrapped an arm around the taller man and frankly cuddled him close.

"Taggert and Rhonda are looking into that side of things," Simon told Jim, who nodded listlessly. Beth got him into a chair and Pete went for a blanket.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The ICU was dim, but Jim could see quite clearly. His Guide looked very small and vulnerable in that bed, dwarfed by the machines and dressings surrounding him. Blair was breathing on his own; the hiss of the oxygen feed a welcome sound. Jim hated seeing his partner on the ventilator and knew that Blair hated waking up to it. Not that he'd be waking up any time soon. The doctors weren't planning to let that happen for a week or so, in order to let him heal in peace and relative comfort.

Beth's arm slid around his waist and she leaned into him gently.

"Oh son," Pete's whisper was unsteady and Jim watched his Guide's father pick up a lax hand and stroke it gently.

"He'll be all right," Jim needed to hear the words as much as the Jackson's and Beth's arm tightened around his waist, "Blair's strong."

"And he's got all of us on his side," Beth added staunchly, "If wishing counts he'll be back to himself in no time."

"Positive vibes," Pete nodded, sending his daughter and adopted son a small smile, "Every little bit helps. Now, I want you two out of here. Go make sure this can't happen again. He'll want to know who did it when he wakes. I'll sit with him for now. You can come visit later."

"Yes dad," Beth leant over a brushed a kiss onto the unmarked skin of Blair's forehead and headed for the door. Jim nodded reluctantly, not wanting to leave, but knowing that Pete would take very good care of his son.

"It's all right, son, I'll call you if things change," Pete promised and Jim felt his eyes fill with unexpected tears. The Jackson's wholehearted acceptance of him was a gift that he'd never get used to. He was given a strong hug and pat to the back, and then he joined Beth in the corridor.

"I don't have the truck," Jim realised, and Beth smiled, fishing out her keys. For the first time Jim realised she wasn't in uniform and gave himself a mental shake. He'd never catch Blair's would-be killer if he didn't pay better attention.

Beth led the way to the family car and settled behind the wheel. She waited until Jim was buckled in before turning to face him.

"Look, before we go anywhere, I want to tell you something. Blair… has been coaching me in the techniques he uses to help you…"

"What?" Jim glared, anger flooding him irrationally, "You think you can just take over? People are NOT interchangeable you know…"

His rant was stopped by Beth's hand over his mouth and he growled in surprise.

"For starters, I never thought we were. Not even identical twins are truly identical. Blair noticed that you respond well to our voices and touch and thought that if there were ever a situation where he wasn't around and you needed some help we'd do in a pinch. It's something to do with familial scent. He figured that he might as well show us the basics for an emergency situation, and I'd say this qualifies, don't you?" she spoke quietly, but the truth of her words hit home, "Besides, Jim, it's just for a little while. Once we sort this out, you can take leave time to be with us all while Blair recovers. Blair is your Guide and nothing can take that away from you."

They were just the words he needed to hear, and Jim nodded, relaxing tense muscles to show that he'd understood and accepted her words. He should have expected something like this. There was no way that Blair would leave anything to chance when it came to his Sentinel's well being and comfort. He kissed the palm of the hand still over his mouth and she rolled her eyes, taking it away and making a show of wiping it on her jeans.

Jim chuckled a little as Beth started the car and pulled out of the lot, waiting for directions that would take them to the station.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Five hours later they were back at the hospital, frustrated by the lack of clues. Jim thought that there was something familiar about the place that Blair had been hit, a scent that teased the edges of his memory. Beth hadn't been able to help him isolate it, and Jim hadn't been able to describe it to her. The scent of his Guide was all over the scene, as well as the blood, and neither one of them were able to detach themselves from the knowledge that it was their brother that had almost died here.

The station was full of tense faced cops, who spoke grimly into phones to their snitches. Jim spent some time with Taggert, going over the cases that he and his partner had been working on over the last few months.

"Bloody hell, what are you, the Mafia police?" Taggert shuddered when he saw some of the names that Jim and Blair had been investigating. Jim sighed. They tended to get the 'Family' jobs because a lot of the better information needed long range listening, and Jim didn't need a court order to get permission to do that. Blair had once made the joke that they worked backwards a lot, and Jim couldn't help but agreeing. Thank God for the sanctity of the 'anonymous informant'.

They also got their more than fair share of odd ball crimes. The ones that had no apparent motive or perp usually crossed their desk. Sentinel scans and Shaman intuition got them started and then it was simply a matter of connecting the dots. Simon worked them hard, and made no apologies for it. Jim agreed that there was no point in under utilising the Sentinel and Shaman, and Jim and Blair both preferred to be busy. It made their downtime together or with the Jackson's all the more intense.

Beth sat with Rhonda, chasing down files and cross-referencing cases to ensure that everything relevant was being reviewed. With the word out to the snitches, all they could do was wait for a better lead. The crime scene was a dead-end, and the car had vanished.

"It was probably stolen anyway," Jim mused as they walked along the ICU corridor, "Pick one up just before you go to do it and the chances are that the owners hadn't even discovered that it was missing, so he could hang around a cop station with impunity."

"Mmmm, and when you're done, you can put it in a chop shop or wreckers yard and no one would be the wiser," Beth nodded but Jim wasn't paying attention any more. He could hear Blair's heartbeat, and the sound was drawing him along like a mother holding a child's hand. He barely noticed the door Beth opened for him as he went to his Guide, leaning over the bed and stroking pale skin, scenting delicately at the still figure and even dabbing his tongue to Blair's temple.

Beth and Pete watched the Sentinel lose himself in his Guide, growling softly in discontent at the state of his hearts brother. Jim's eyes were a little glazed and Beth was sure that the man had even forgotten they were in the room as he made minute adjustments to Blair's body, seeking the most comfortable position for him. Pete held his daughters hand, and she squeezed it tightly. As awful as the situation was, it was a comfort to see the care and attention being lavished on Blair, and the minute improvement in the monitors told them that the man in the bed knew his Sentinel was there.

"We'd better not let him zone," Pete said quietly, and Beth sighed.

"Do you want to try getting in between them?" she smiled down at her dad, who smiled back. Neither of them was silly enough to try that right now.

"Why don't you take a break," Beth suggested, "I'll watch them for now. Bring me back a sandwich or something, ok?"

"Yes mother," Pete grumbled, but got to his feet. Beth kissed his cheek on the way past and took his chair, leaning forward to put her hand next to her twins on the bed, not touching, just being near. The Sentinel rumbled approval and patted the hand kindly before returning attention to his Guide.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The staff kicked them all out at ten o'clock, and Jim took the family back to the loft to rest. Pete got Blair's room and Beth insisted on taking the couch. The phone rang at eight, waking them all from much needed sleep, and Simon informed Jim that the car had been found. It had been driven off the docks into the sea, and someone had rammed their yacht into it when they approached the dock this morning. One hurried scramble later and Jim and Beth were headed for the scene while Pete went back to the hospital and Blair. Just as the truck pulled to a stop Pete called with the report that Blair had slept well and was doing a little better today. They were smiling as they walked past the crime scene barriers.

They weren't smiling an hour later. The cars windows had all been opened, and the vehicle had been in the dirty salt water that surrounded the dock long enough for all traces to be destroyed. The car hadn't even been reported stolen, and a quick check at the registered owners address revealed why. They were off on holidays overseas, and the garage side door had been expertly picked. Jim oversaw the forensics efforts there, though there wasn't much hope that they'd find anything either. Whoever the thief had been, he'd been thorough and quick. There weren't even footprints to find. The neighbours hadn't seen anything, presenting them with yet another dead end.

Just as they were about to leave the scene and head for the hospital, Simon approached Jim cautiously. From the captains scent and heart beat, Jim realised that his boss was about to say something that he knew Jim didn't want to hear.

"Jim, you're due in court in an hour. You'd better go change and get over there," the Captain's voice was calm and sure, and Jim spent a moment fighting his first reaction to the statement that told him he wasn't allowed to go see his Guide.

It wasn't Simon's fault, and they'd worked too hard to just let the case be ruined now. Blair would be pissed, and Jim wouldn't be too happy about it either.

"I'll go to the hospital," Beth promised, and Jim nodded curtly. Simon looked relieved that they weren't going to have to fight about it, and nodded his thanks to Jim. The gesture reminded the Sentinel that he wasn't the only one worried about the Shaman Guide - their friends were just as upset, and hadn't had the option of visiting yet, mainly because his family maxed Blair's visiting allotment out.

"I'll drop you off on the way there," he sighed heavily and Beth held his hand all the way back to the truck.

Court dragged all day, and Jim's testimony was the last one heard before the session ended. Beth called at regular intervals to see what was happening and reassure him about Blair's condition. The DA made sure to ask where his partner was while Jim was on the stand, no doubt trying to get the hit and run classified as the fault of the defendant. All Jim was concerned about was getting back to his partner.

As he finally walked up the corridor of the ICU towards Blair's room, he thought he spotted a familiar form up ahead. Sure enough, the slender woman turned into Blair's room and Jim hastened his pace a little, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

The door opened on a very tense scene. Beth and Pete were standing, facing the red head in her gauzy wrap that had stopped just inside the door, and the tension in the air was incredible.

"Hello Naomi," Jim said weakly from behind her, "How did you get here?"

"I came to visit my son," Naomi's tone was cold and cutting, "I haven't seen him for nearly a year. When I called his cell phone Simon answered it and told me what had happened. I wasn't expecting him to have… visitors."

"If you think I'd abandon my only son when he needs me the most, think again," there was an edge to Pete's tone that Jim had only rarely heard. It took a lot for the ex-detective to become furiously angry, another trait that Blair had inherited from his father.

Naomi ignored her former husband and swept around the bed to lean over and kiss Blair's forehead. Jim remained frozen in the doorway, unsure what he should do next.

"Hello sweetie," Naomi cooed, smoothing Blair's hair, "Mommy's here."

Beth snorted and shook her head, evidently unimpressed by Naomi's little display of motherly love and care. Jim had to control a similar reaction. Naomi Sandburg was only Blair's mother when it suited her, a trait that Jim found infuriating. He took a moment to note with satisfaction that, unlike when Jim or the Jackson's touched him, there was no change to the readings on the monitors that surrounded his Blair.

"Hello mother," Beth said quietly, and Naomi glared at her. Blair's twin was outwardly calm, though Jim could hear her heart pounding in a combination of excitement and fear.

"Beth," the acknowledgement was cold, and Jim finally found the strength to step forward and put a hand on Pete's arm. The man had clenched his hands into fists, and was fairly vibrating in rage. Beth flinched as if slapped and Pete shook Jim's hand off to reach for his daughter, pulling her into an unashamed hug.

"I'd like to visit with my son," Naomi glared at them all, and Beth broke away from her father to rush from the room. She might not have grown up with Naomi as her twin had, but the little girl in her still loved her Mom, and that made the rejection all the more painful. Pete took off after his daughter and Jim went with him. As much as he wanted to spend time with Blair right now, being in the same room as Naomi was low on his list of priorities. He was only grateful that his Guide hadn't been awake to see the ugly little scene that had just played out over his bed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"She's not worth this," Jim rocked the weeping Beth in his arms, watching a stray tear slowly work it's way down her fathers cheek as well, "Come on, Bethy, she's not worth it!"

"She's my Mom!" Beth sobbed out, "She hates me!"

"Darling girl," Pete added himself to the hug, "She doesn't know you. How can she hate a stranger?"

"She didn't take me!" that wail came from the deep insecurity of a childhood fear, and Jim wished Naomi had never come. As much as Blair would have loved to see his mother again, the Shaman would not have thought the price Beth was paying worth it.

"Oh Beth," there was no answer to that, and Jim simply renewed his grip on her. They stood in silence for a long time, until both the Jackson's could stand to let go and straighten up. Beth disappeared into a bathroom and Pete ran a hand over his face, exhaustion etched on the features that Blair so subtly echoed.

"Pete, I'm so sorry," the words were inadequate, but the sentiment honestly, deeply felt.

"I know, son," Pete sighed, "All her life Beth has been a little insecure about why she was the one that Naomi left behind. She knows in her head that there's nothing wrong with her - hell she was too young to be responsible for whatever Naomi blamed her for when she left - but the heart is another matter."

"I wish Blair was here," the Sentinel blurted without thought and Pete chuckled.

"Don't we all," he agreed, the weak sound of humour a welcome one. Beth rejoined them, a little red around the eyes, but otherwise composed. She hugged her father and Jim, and then straightened her shoulders.

"Let's get back," she suggested anxiously, "Naomi isn't going to drive me away from my sib."

"Right," Jim agreed, relieved to see some spirit from her. As with Blair, a subdued Beth was a worrying thing, though his Guide was the more boisterous of the twins. Pete had reassured Jim that even when they were babies it was Blair that had made the most noise and gotten into the most trouble. That was a pattern that had stayed with him through childhood and into adulthood.

Jim had had to chase Beth down three flights to the lobby, so it wasn't until the elevator got to the third floor that he realised that the alarms around Blair's bed were going off. He charged from the lift and down the hall without a word of explanation, and felt more than heard the Jackson's following him.

The room was full of medical people, doing things to his Guide that Jim didn't want to think about too clearly. Blair was shaking and jerking on the bed, his IV ripped out, and the sheets in disarray. Naomi was nowhere in sight, and the family was pushed out of the room by a stern faced nurse the moment she spotted them.

"What the hell happened?" Pete growled, and Beth shook her head helplessly. Jim looked around, trying to spot Naomi Sandburg, the last person who'd seen Blair. There was no sight of her, and the Sentinel frowned. Naomi was a ditz, but if Blair went into seizures while she was there, she would have stuck around, not just upped and left.

"Where's Mom?" Beth proved a moment later that they were on the same wavelength. Jim shrugged and caught a whiff of sage from the emergency stairwell down the hall. He headed for the doors quickly, wondering why Naomi would choose to be waiting there.

As he opened the door the woman in question gasped in surprise and then bolted, heading for the lobby at a frantic pace.

"Naomi wait!" Jim called, but the redhead didn't stop and Jim was torn between staying for his Guide or going after her. Beth had no such quandary, brushing past him and following her mother down the stairs at a dead run. Jim followed her, his instincts beginning to sound off.

They'd left Blair alone with his mother for about twenty minutes while Beth and Pete came to terms with her total rejection of their familial past. A lot could happen in twenty minutes, and the fact that the snitches hadn't been able to dig up any information on the streets had Jim thinking things that he just didn't want to think.

Who stood to gain the most from Blair's death? The criminal element of their city wasn't actively pursuing his Guide at the moment, which made Jim wonder if there was something else going on here entirely, something that had been started over a year ago with a picture on a milk carton.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Naomi may have acted the hippy dippy trippy girl, but she sure had passed on her speed to her son. Unfortunately for her she'd also passed it on to her daughter, and Jim used his abilities to track Beth as she followed her mother down the stairs, across the hospitals busy reception area and into the parking lot.

Naomi headed out of there at a dead run and into the open-air markets that took place in the park once a month. This made Jim's job harder because of all the various scents and incense that were associated with the markets. If it had been Blair he wouldn't have thought twice, but with Beth they were enough to force him to rely on his hearing only, with sight kicking in whenever there was a straight line between them. The chance of a zone was greater, but he didn't want to risk losing sight of mother and daughter.

Naomi burst out of the markets when she failed to lose her daughter the sheriff, and headed for the shopping mall nearby instead. Jim hated the place because the architecture distorted sounds, and he put on a burst of speed to catch up to Beth.

"I can't hear too well in here," he warned her, breathing heavily, "And Naomi knows about me."

"Ok, lets just keep our eyes peeled," Beth panted, and they moved quickly, scanning the crowds of shoppers for signs of disturbance that would be caused by a pretty woman running full tilt along the corridors. A distant shout caught Beth's attention and she grabbed Jim, towing him along in her wake.

"Why the hell is she running?" Beth snapped as they hurried along. Evidently she wasn't thinking too hard about the situation they'd just left. Even now, Jim was fighting his instincts to just turn around and head back to the hospital. He had a feeling that if they didn't corner Naomi soon, they'd never see her again.

"I'm not sure," the answer was honest enough, though Beth shot him a look that said she'd want the full answer later. There was no slipping half-truths past either Blair or the Jackson's, a skill that made them formidable cops.

A familiar scent caught his nose and he planted his feet, bringing Beth to a sudden stop. A quick scan showed Naomi standing behind a pillar, and he ran towards her, subtlety out the window, wanting this over and done with. Naomi ran, fear on her pretty face, and Jim put on a burst of speed, determined to end this once and for all.

He closed the gap but before he could grab the woman, Beth went flying past him and tackled her mother to the floor, squirming to get the redhead face down and subdued while Jim tracked the shoulder bag that Naomi had dropped.

"Jim! Don't touch it and give me your cuffs!" Beth yelled, and he turned back, handing the cuffs over reluctantly, and then moving to stand over the bag before a less than honest citizen decided to pick it up. He took charge of Naomi, and Beth took charge of the bag, producing a clean handkerchief from her pocket to pick it up by a strap.

"Let me go, you pig!" Naomi twisted in his grasp and Jim tightened his hold with a growl, the Miranda flowing from his mouth without thought.

"It's police brutality!" Naomi shouted at the people watching, "I haven't done anything wrong!"

Despite her pleas, the onlookers made no move against them, and by the time the cops that the malls management had called arrived, Naomi was sulking on the floor, having thrown herself down in an attempt at passive resistance.

They had to carry her out to the car.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You'd better be right about this, Jim, because I'm telling you that woman has some surprising connections," Simon frowned at his detective, "We let her have her phone call while you were checking on the kid, and since then we've had the DA, and three very high priced lawyers contact us."

"What did forensics find in her bag?" Jim asked tensely. Blair's convulsions had been stopped, but his condition was borderline, and being away from his Guide at this point in time was like a physical pain to Jim. Beth had gone back to the hospital to sit with her dad, and Jim knew that she'd call if there were any change for the better… or worse.

"I don't know what tipped you off, but they found a syringe with her finger prints on it. They're testing it now. And I've got a crime scene unit at the garage the car was boosted from, dusting for fingerprints. Maybe she had something to do with the car," it looked like Simon felt sick saying the words, and Jim nodded.

"As to what tipped me off," Jim sighed, "There was no reason for her to leave him if he was in convulsions. Normally she'd be in there screaming at the doctors and deriding Western medicine. Instead she was hanging around in a stairwell, and ran when she saw us."

"Pretty flimsy," Simon scowled, "But we've worked with less."

"The problem is, if her lawyers are as good as you say, we won't be able to hold her for long, especially if the DA is being pressured," Jim scowled at the floor. He wouldn't be allowed to interview Naomi, mainly because he was so close to her victim. He also knew that she was just going to clam up and that would push his control - already thready at best - over the edge. They'd be cleaning her off the walls, and he'd do his Guide no good in prison.

"Jim!" Brown called, a worried frown on his face, "Babe, we got a match of the fingerprints at the Crestmans garage."

The Crestmans were the owners of the car that had run Sandburg over at the start of all this - only yesterday. Jim couldn't believe how quickly things had gone from near perfect to crap.

"Well come on, man, who matched them?" Simon snapped impatiently. Brown's scent was disturbingly muddy, and Jim had a feeling that he already knew who owned those prints.

"Naomi Sandburg," Brown took a hasty step back from the rage that appeared in Simon's eyes and Jim folded his arms tightly across his chest, reminding himself not to kill the messenger. It wasn't Brown's fault, and the fact that they had the evidence to warrant holding Naomi for a bit longer was a small solace.

"We got the prints from her priors records - she was arrested in Cascade twenty years ago at a protest march," Brown continued, eying Jim very warily.

"Of course she was," he muttered grimly, "Is there any chance that she knows the Crestmans? Any possibility that she can come up with a plausible reason for her prints to be there?"

"Rafe is talking to them now - he managed to track them down," Brown put the report on the desk so that Ellison or Banks could pick it up and sidled back over to where his partner was still talking on the phone. Rafe hung up after a moment and shook his head. Although Ellison was on the other side of the bullpen he knew he didn't have to raise his voice to deliver this piece of bad news.

"The Crestmans have never heard of her," he adjusted his tie, "We've got her cornered."

There was no victory in his tone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Simon wasn't about to let their case go down the toilet because Jim couldn't control the Sentinel, which was why his detective was in the chair furthest from the door and Simon was sitting next to him. He'd made Jim lock his gun away, and had done the same himself, acknowledging that he wasn't exactly thinking clearly himself.

Brown and Rafe had gone into the interrogation with solemn faces and deliberately calm demeanours. They'd offered Naomi a bathroom break and refreshments, though they'd refused to remove her restraints. The fact that her lawyers hadn't insisted over this point said to Simon that they knew there were more important battles to win. The issue of restraints was a minor thing in the end.

"You've got no right to hold me against my will," Naomi folded her hands on the interrogation table, "I haven't done anything wrong."

Simon suspected that this particular statement was vital to her future insanity plea. It was also the best way for Rafe and Brown to crack her, and his second best team picked up on it flawlessly.

They started by telling her the latest prognosis from the hospital, detailing that Blair was now on full life support, and that with the support of his father, sister and power-of-attorney, would stay that way for the foreseeable future. What might have seemed like a non sequitor to her lawyers was like a red rag to a bull to the red head, and she immediately began ranting about how it was better to let Blair go and 'free his spirit' from the 'cruel lies and bonds of this existence.'

Rafe invited her to expand on that statement, and in a thirty minute diatribe, where she actually told her lawyers to shut up, and waved aside their warnings, Naomi explained in precise detail the chain of logic that led her to believe that it was better to kill her second born rather than let him live with the family she'd stolen him from so many years ago.

Simon held Jim's wrist in a tight grip as they listened to the Shaman's mother explain that she had stolen her son away when he was three to protect his 'uniqueness from the stodgy influence of his twin and father'. It seemed that Beth had favoured her dad when it came to being soothed or played with, and Naomi saw her daughter as a threat to her marriage. The fact that it was Naomi who had been the adulterer didn't seem to register with the woman. She described in great detail how she'd raised Blair to be a free spirit, bound to no one, slave to nothing, and that she had hoped that in time he would become the 'leader' of his generation, 'a prophet to guide the chosen people to a truly spiritual life'.

The Cascade PD, and Rainer had corrupted him, of course, which was why she'd sabotaged the dissertation. Blair had failed to follow her out of Cascade, and when he'd ultimately betrayed her by rediscovering the twin and father that she'd 'rescued' him from, Naomi knew it was time to act.

Careful investigation on her part showed that there were currently no exploitable flaws that would break him free of the 'fascist materialistic' clutches of the PD and family that he valued so highly - or at least no way to do so without getting him into a lot of trouble that could ultimately result in him being locked up, because framing him for a crime had too many risks to it - so she had decided that it might be better if he 'went on to his next life, where he could fulfil his true destiny'.

She'd slept with her fair share of the lawless in her time, and knew how to 'boost a car', and had done her best to kill her son by running him down in the street. When that hadn't worked - because Blair was 'so strong and misguidedly attached to this life' - she'd decided to administer a fatal dose of morphine from the hospitals own pharmacy.

In the observation room it was hard to tell who was restraining who. Simon wanted his hands around her throat so badly he could almost taste it, and Jim was torn between helping the man or holding him back. Rafe and Brown took the statement stoically, and then left at the lawyer's request, giving them time with their client.

Simon wasn't looking forward to explaining to Blair and the Jackson's what the hell was going on, and from the look on Jim's face the Sentinel wasn't either.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Beth looked sick, and Pete was shaking, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Jim let the silence drag out to give them time to assimilate what had been said. It wasn't every day that your mother turned out to be a psychopath, and there were no words to cover the situation.

Blair was recovering, though the doctors were monitoring him even more closely than ever. The good news was that they didn't feel any additional damage had been done to their patient, and that he would recover in time and with plenty of rehab. Pete had already called the team that had worked with him after the loss of his leg, and Blair would be transferred to that clinic the moment the doctors in Cascade felt he was ready. Pete was planning to stay with his son throughout the process and Jim was going to take as much leave time as he could towards the end, so that when Blair was released from the clinic they could have some time together with the Jackson's as a holiday.

He'd already seen the wolf, and had been very relieved when the spirit guide recognised and greeted him happily. The Shaman was unhurt, then, which meant that the brain damage that had initially been predicted with the seizures was not a factor. It was just like Blair to let him know that wherever he currently was, he was also intact.

"So what will happen to her now?" Beth sighed heavily, and Jim frowned, unhappy with the situation, but not wanting to make things worse by adding his tempestuous feelings to the mix.

"She's being remanded for psych evaluation, and then she'll probably end up in a mental institution," Jim sighed. Pete growled in frustration.

"That's not good enough! I want her locked up for good!"

"Dad, it's not like she can just check out whenever she likes," Beth pointed out, though she didn't look too impressed either, "She will be locked up." 

What no one said, but everyone knew, was that Naomi was enough of a con artist to trick her way out of the institution. That made her a threat that none of them wanted to deal with again. Jim had a powerful urge to get in touch with some of his old special op's buddies, and was keeping himself under tight control as a result. Blair didn't need to deal with the knowledge that his Sentinel had taken out a contract on his mother's life, and Jim was under no misapprehensions that he could keep that a secret from his Guide.

"It's the best we can do for now," Jim sighed and the Jackson's gave in unhappily. He wished Blair was awake to help deal with all this.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Epilogue

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Blair leaned the cane that the doctors still insisted he needed against the rock and turned carefully, settling himself onto the ground and resting his back against the sun-warmed stone.

The past six months had been one long struggle from beginning to end, but he thought that things were finally settling down.

His Dad had grown a lot closer to him during rehab, and Blair blessed the older man's strength and support daily. Though Blair was no quitter, there had been times when rehab had been rough, and Pete had carried him over those rough patches, as well as hanging around in the smooth.

Jim and Beth had grown closer too, though Blair wasn't officially aware of that. He'd let them 'come out' in their own time, and in the meantime ensured that they had plenty of quality time together. He'd dreamt the other night that he and Pete shared the sky blue house together, while Beth and Jim lived in the loft. He'd been wearing the Sheriff's badge, and the idea was intriguing, though he wasn't sure how he'd manage to Guide his Sentinel long distance. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it, though he had a feeling that the dream wasn't so much gospel truth as possibilities.

The lotus position was a little out of his current league, but Blair didn't need it to meditate. With the enforced inactivity of the last six months he'd learned a lot more about his Shaman abilities, and there was one thing he had yet to deal with.

The seashore of his childhood - his earliest memory with his mother - formed around him, and Blair walked along the sand slowly, the breeze tossing his long curls about. There was another set of footprints in the sand, slowly being washed away by the tide, and Blair surveyed them with satisfaction. It was a woman's foot, and in the distance he could see a slender redhead, slowly but surely washing further from the sand into the restless ocean. He could hear a gull crying in the distance and a playful bark behind him had him turning, smiling at the out of place wolf that was frisking along and flirting with the waves.

Soon they would be the only occupants of the beach, and Blair felt that they could migrate to the jungle permanently, secure in the knowledge that their attacker was no more.

"Chief?"

Blair opened his eyes and put up a hand with a smile, inviting Jim to sit beside him. Jim was looking worried and Blair took a few minutes to pet his Sentinel, indulging them both in the contact that had been so rare these last few months.

"What's up Jim?" Blair asked lazily, and Jim sighed, frowning down at the path he'd followed Blair along.

"We got a call from Naomi's hospital," he said reluctantly, "Apparently she's… they say that she was meditating and now she won't wake up."

"Hmm," Blair frowned, "I guess she found a way to escape after all. Naomi is free in her mind, when the walls and rules bind her in place."

"I guess," Jim nodded, "It's just that… well she refused to allow any intervention in the case of…"

"Her living will forbids life support or intravenous feeding," Blair said it for him, "I know, she made it very clear to me when I was little that she wouldn't 'linger' like that."

"Are you ok?" Jim wrapped him in a hug and Blair nodded into the strong shoulder, hugging in return. He had his family to support him, and when the time came he would be able to detach from his mother… with love.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The end

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


End file.
